Elliot Returns
by CHSPatriot09
Summary: Just the product of me thinking about how great it would be if my dreams came true and Elliot returned to SVU. Short, not sure if I'll continue it or not. Rated M to be safe, for mature content and sexual themes. Never written and SVU fic before, R&R please.


**How I imagine this episode should have played out. I think we can all agree that Elliot should return to SVU!**

***I do not own SVU or its characters. Although, I would like to own Elliot Stabler, that delicious man…**

Olivia fought against unconsciousness. Every muscle and bone in her body begged her to give up, to drift off to sleep. Her hair clung to her face, held there by a mixture of blood and perspiration. Tears stung her eyes, threatened to brim over, but she forced them back. She pulled at her restraints again, heard the cuffs that were cutting into her wrists rattle against the iron headboard. She couldn't give up, she had to keep fighting. She tried thinking of ways to escape, but her head pounded relentlessly.

Where was Lewis? She took deep breaths through her nose – her mouth was still covered by that damn duct tape. She was beginning to lose hope of escaping on her own. She hoped they were coming for her – the other members of the Special Victims Unit. She liked Nick; he was a nice guy and a good cop. But Olivia could hear little nagging voices in the back of her mind, the ones that told her that if Elliot were still her partner she would have been found by now.

Olivia pushed the voices away. Reminiscing about the good old days would get her nowhere. Nick was her partner now and she had to trust him, to trust that he and the rest of the squad were doing everything in their power to find her. She had to continue to do her part as well, to continue to fight and to not stop fighting until she was either dead or until she escaped.

The door opened and Lewis entered. She didn't like the sadistic smile on his face.

"Detective Benson," he said. "Still fighting, I see. I like that in my women."

Olivia wanted to shout at him, to tell him that he was disgusting, that she wasn't his woman and never would be. She contorted her face, trying to free her lips from the tape, but it was a lost cause. She settled for glaring at him with as much contempt as she could muster.

Lewis laughed quietly…

…then he pulled a small knife from his back pocket.

Olivia forced herself not to react. Her eyes wanted to widen in fear, but instead she narrowed them in defiance. She wanted to struggle more against her restraints, but she stilled and readied herself for what was surely to come. He wanted her to be afraid of him – he got off on that. She would rather die than give him the satisfaction of thinking that he scared her.

"I've been waiting quite a while to have my way with you, Detective Benson," he murmured, coming close to her. He kneeled beside the bed and ran his hand over her chest. He brought the knife up and cut her t-shirt from collar to hem, exposing her.

Olivia forced herself not to flinch as the cold steel of the blade was flattened against her cheek. She looked Lewis squarely in the eye as he dragged the tip of the knife down the side of her neck, across her collarbone, and over her sternum. Then she was glad he had taped her mouth shut; it prevented her from screaming when he made a long, shallow cut beneath her left breast.

Lewis repeated this process several times, one long cut at a time. He used her ribcage as a guide, followed it all the way down to the end. As he cut her, he dropped his pants. He was erect, and he began to stroke himself slowly.

When he finished with her left side, he began on the right. The pain was as bad as any Olivia had ever felt. Her body shook with the effort of handling it, of controlling her reaction. She wasn't sure how much more she could take.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a silhouette block the doorway. Broad shoulders, strong arms, wide hips, long legs. Olivia blinked several times, focusing hard so that she could see more detail. There was that familiar short haircut; those piercing blue eyes; that strong jaw; that eagle, globe, and anchor tattooed on his forearm.

Elliot Stabler. He'd come for her.

"Lewis!" he shouted, as he stepped into the room.

Lewis spun around, jerking his pants up as he stood. He brandished the knife as he advanced on Elliot. Olivia realized Elliot didn't have a weapon. Lewis's knife was small but the man was absolutely lethal. She wanted to warn Elliot, to shout at him to be careful, but all she could do was shake her head wildly and thrash on the bed, fighting again against her restraints.

It all happened so fast. Lewis lunged at Elliot with the knife, and Elliot made grabbing Lewis's wrist just before the knife pierced his chest look easy. He grinned at Lewis, twisted his wrist until he dropped the knife. For the first time, real fear clouded Lewis's face.

"You like torturing women?" Elliot murmured, bending Lewis's hand farther, forcing him to his knees. "You get off on it? Watching them cry and struggle while you cut them with your little knife?"

Elliot let go of Lewis's wrist and shoved his shoulder so that he fell on his ass. Lewis looked at the knife, on the floor only three feet away from him, within arm's reach. He looked at Olivia's gun, on the table beside the bed, only five feet away.

"Come on, tough guy," Elliot said. "You want the knife? You want the gun? Forget about them. Why don't you stand up so we can settle this man-to-man?"

Lewis struggled to his feet, and Elliot opened his arms wide in invitation.

"I'm a gentleman," he said. "So I'll even let you have the first shot. Go ahead. Hit me."

Lewis pulled his hand back and punched Elliot in the jaw. Elliot blinked a few times before grinning at him.

"Not bad," Elliot said. "Let's see what else you've got."

Elliot hit him – hard. Then he hit him again, and again, and again. Lewis tried to fight back, but he was no match for the training that determined Elliot's every move. Even when Elliot's knuckles were bruised and covered in Lewis's blood, he didn't stop. He kept hitting Lewis, screaming at him. _"Do you feel like a man now?" _Olivia worried that Elliot would beat Lewis literally to death.

Then, Olivia heard voices, familiar voices, coming from outside the room. Finn entered the room first, gun drawn. When he saw Elliot on top of Lewis he lowered his weapon. Munch was so close behind him that he nearly ran right into him. Rollins and Amaro entered last. Amaro stared at Elliot and Lewis, and Rollins ran straight to Olivia.

"Are you okay?" she asked, looking at the cuts on Olivia's torso, her bruised and bloodied face. She freed Olivia from the cuffs and draped her jacket over her chest to preserve whatever modesty she had left.

"I'm fine," Olivia said after she removed the tape from her face.

In the corner of the room, Munch and Finn were pulling Elliot off of Lewis, and Amaro was cuffing him and reading him his rights as he dragged him out of the room.

Elliot looked to Olivia, saw her watching him. He moved too slowly across the room. Olivia noticed that his shirt was covered in blood, but since he appeared to be okay she was fairly certain that the blood was Lewis's. He dropped to his knees beside the bed and Olivia saw that his eyes were red and teary. He grabbed her hand and pressed his lips to her forehead.

"I was almost too late," he murmured.

"I'm fine, El," she told him. "I can't believe you came. You're retired."

"Cragen called me," Elliot told her hoarsely. "He said you'd been taken, and I…I just…I couldn't handle the thought of something happening to you. I'm so glad you're okay."

"A bus is on the way," Finn said quietly from across the room, reminding Olivia that she wasn't alone with Elliot. "Five minutes."

Olivia nodded, suddenly overwhelmed with exhaustion. Her eyelids felt heavy.

"You're safe now, Liv," Elliot said. "Go ahead and rest."

His face was the last thing she saw before she drifted off to sleep.


End file.
